


chelsey long's proper response to her local salvation army homophobe

by isignedupforthis



Category: Lovely Little Losers
Genre: (That's vaguely alluded to but then immediately addressed), F/F, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Salvation Army, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isignedupforthis/pseuds/isignedupforthis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, it was not as if they were close enough to the bell ringer to hear what vitriolic language she was using towards them, or that Chelsey particularly cared for what she had to say about her quite lovely relationship with her incredible girlfriend. However, she was taken aback by the fact that the woman was choosing to yell at them at Christmas time. And interrupt their quite nice kissing, which she was enjoying. Chelsey was not hurt, she was just…irritated.</p><p>Chelsey gets the role of a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chelsey long's proper response to her local salvation army homophobe

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: The following story is based on a Tumblr post from a TWERF/TERF. While the story itself is not related to trans-exclusionary radical feminsim (and the author neither condones or supports it), if this source material is in anyway triggering or offensive, please take caution before reading.

Chelsey strolled down Vivian Street, wind rushing past her ears. Despite the fact that it was close to Christmas time, Wellington was warmest in December. At her side was Paige, balancing what seemed to be a countless amount of boxes, bags, and other purchases that the pair had made throughout the afternoon. Chelsey stepped to the side of the street and turned to her girlfriend.

“You know,” Chelsey offered, “I can carry some of the gifts as well.”

Paige popped her head out from behind the pile of presents she held. “What, do you think that I’m not strong enough?" 

Chelsey rolled her eyes. “Of course not, silly! But if both of your hands are carrying the gifts, then I can’t hold one. And I would like to hold my girlfriend’s hand.” She reached out to Paige, shooting her with one of Chelsey’s Infamous Death Glares. “Give me your hand. And your gifts. _Now_.” 

Paige’s eyes widened, looking slightly startled, but then smiled. She bent her knees so Chelsey could grab the gifts from the top of her pile. 

“I keep forgetting that you’re an theatre major,” Paige noted as Chelsey pulled the presents down from her stack, revealing Paige’s face once again. “After what, how many months that we’ve been dating?”

“Five,” Chelsey replied, kissing Paige softly.

Or, at least, what Chelsey considered to be softly, until she realized that Paige had dropped their gifts to respond…well, rather _enthusiastically._  

And they would have continued on that way, except Chelsey heard someone behind her, causing her to break the kiss. 

It was a woman across the street, in a red apron, yelling at the pair. Chelsey squinted to read the bright, crimson sign that she stood in front of. _Salvation Army_.

Oh, Chelsey realized. _Oh._  

Now, it was not as if they were close enough to the bell ringer to hear what vitriolic language she was using towards them, or that Chelsey particularly cared for what she had to say about her quite lovely relationship with her incredible girlfriend. However, she was taken aback by the fact that the woman was choosing to yell at them at _Christmas time_. And interrupt their _quite nice_ kissing, which she was enjoying. Chelsey was not hurt, she was just…irritated.

One thing to note about Chelsey Long is that she does not lash out when she is angry. Rather, she puts on her Infamous Death Glare and does Not Stop Glaring until the person who has angered her is incredibly uncomfortable. 

So Chelsey stared. And stared.

She could tell that this woman was squirming from the intensity of her gaze, even from across the street, even with all of the people between them. 

Still, she stared on. 

Even Paige turned to see where Chelsey was glaring and took a few steps away, anticipating Chelsey’s seemingly inevitable eruption. 

Except Chelsey realized that violence, either verbal or physical, was not the solution. After all, it was _Christmas time._  

So instead, she began to cry. 

Chelsey imagined the absolute worst, most devastating things that could possibly happen to her: performing terribly at an audition, Paige breaking up with her, her cat dying before her very eyes; she imagined them all happening at once, a montage of tragedy flashing before her, so that she delivered the most intense tears humanly possible. She figured she looked quite upsetting: a tiny, wide-eyed college student, sniffling and sobbing on the sidewalk.

She could hear Paige mutter under her breath, “Oh, fuck.”

She could see the bell ringer across the way mouth, “Oh, _fuck_.”

Oh, _fuck,_ indeed, lady.

Oh, _fuck_ indeed.

Chelsey threw back her head, wiping her eyes with her knit-green sweater, and screamed in a shrill voice, “W-WH-WHO could possibly be so CRUEL? W-why are you s-s-so _MEAN_ to me?” She pointed aggressively at the woman. “IT’S THE HOLIDAYS!!!”

She glanced to the right and to the left of the woman. People had begun to slow down past the woman, and a crowd was drawing around both sides of the street. In the crowd, Chelsey saw a police officer approaching the bell ringer. 

An older lady, who had stopped on their side of the street and had a striking resemblance to Julie Walters, came towards Chelsey and Paige. She tenderly touched Chelsey’s arm.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The officer walked closer to the bell ringer. People had taken out their phones and were recording the affair. The woman in the red apron looked terrified. Paige’s eyes were darting nervously, back and forth between the two sides of the road, between the bell ringer and her girlfriend. 

Chelsey realized that this was the greatest performance of her entire life. 

Her wet, wild, wide eyes met those of the comforting woman and pointed across the street, wobbling her lip to almost a cartoonish degree, yelling loud enough for all of the crowd to hear:

“W-we were… and-d-d I was…that w-w-woman…sh-she said we were going to HELL!”

(Again, Chelsey had not actually heart what the bell ringer said. However, given the woman’s shrill voice and large, rather vulgar hand gestures, she felt that the sentiment was close enough.)

Chelsey collapsed again into pseudo-sobbing. She felt Paige come to her side again, and stroke her back, and move her past the comforting woman, and the uproar of outcries from the crowd directed at the bell-ringer.

“You MONSTER!”

“You made her CRY!”

“Haven’t you people learned ANYTHING SINCE _1986_!!!" 

Chelsey bit back a devilish grin as Paige pushed her through the crowd, until they had walked all the way to Boyet’s Coffee. 

Paige reached to open the door for Chelsey, when she turned and looked her girlfriend, who was still trying not to laugh from the series of events that had just occurred, in the eyes.

 “So, that was all acting, yeah?” Paige deadpanned.

 Chelsey couldn’t help it- she broke character. She grinned widely and kissed Paige on the cheek as she skipped into the coffee shop. “Acting major, remember?”

“All this time, I thought you were a Hufflepuff. But, Chelsey….that was the most Slytherin thing I have ever seen anyone do.”

It was years before Chelsey saw the bell-ringer outside again.

**Author's Note:**

> This entire passage was based on text post from Tumblr. If I knew how to link it in the aesthetically pleasing way, I would: (appropriately-inappropriate.tumblr.com/post/104263141115/wirstdate-liefplus-if-u-werent-aware-of)


End file.
